


In Your Language

by spiderstorms



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mentioned Guznadia, Omander - Freeform, i miss my boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderstorms/pseuds/spiderstorms
Summary: “Omar.” Ander called softly.Omar hummed in response. Ander swallowed.“Bhebak.” He stated.Omar lifted his head to glance down at him. “Que?”Ander cleared his throat. Perhaps Omar didn’t hear him the first time. “Bhebak. It means “I love you” in Arabic, right?”
Relationships: Ander Muñoz & Omar Shana, Ander Muñoz/Omar Shana, Guzmán Nunier Osuna/Nadia Shana
Comments: 15
Kudos: 134





	In Your Language

**Author's Note:**

> Not Omar and Arón making me miss Omander at 4am again. I wrote this really quickly so mind the errors.

Ander couldn’t sleep again. 

It wasn’t for a lack of effort either. There was nothing to be remotely worried about; no unsolved murder, no best friend to be frustrated with, no cancer slowly eating him alive, no secrets to beheld—nothing. Yet here he was, staring up at the ceiling of Nano’s bedroom while listening to the soft and steady brother’s which indicated that Omar was indeed asleep. 

Ander shifted slowly, turning out of Omar’s embrace to face his boyfriend. He had been careful not to wake him up, for Omar had just returned from his shift at the bar and promptly collapsed before Ander could carry out the romantic gesture he had been planning for days. It was a tad bit disappointing, but ever since their conversation at the hospital where Omar confessed his unyielding love, Ander had been ever-so careful in making sure not to push him in any way. 

Okay, maybe not so careful. Almost immediately after Omar had told him he was staying; Ander had demanded his boyfriend move back in with him. 

“I have spent so much time pushing you away, making you feel unwanted and unloved,” He had said, drawing circles on the back of Omar’s palm with his thumb. “But Omar, it is hard to breathe without you. It is hard for me to live my life without you in it. I try not to ask for much, but if I still had cancer—if I was still dying and had one last wish, it would be to have you by my side.” 

He had seen Omar’s walls of rejection to the idea crumble within his brown orbs and for the briefest moment, Omar had agreed to stay with him. Everything had been perfect until the night after, when Samuel announced at a group dinner that he could not afford to live by himself and put his hands together in a plea, begging Omar to stay with him and help pay rent until he had found another roommate. Omar, being the kindest person in the world, had agreed, resulting in a very long night of pouting. 

“He doesn’t have the luxury of owning a home and living with the most caring mother in the world.” Omar had stated, wrapping his arms around Ander’s shoulders. 

It was a fair argument, but Ander was admittedly selfish. 

“You only agreed because people started looking at us.” Ander pouted like the mature eighteen-year-old he is. 

“No. I said yes because he was begging on his knees like a puppy.”

The comment made Ander smirk as he gazed back at his boyfriend. “So, what you’re saying is that I should ask you to stay on my knees? Or would you prefer in between your knees?” 

“I know where this conversation is going, Ander!” 

Ander had in fact gotten on his knees, but by the time they were both exhausted from their nightly activities, Omar’s mind was made up. He had assured Ander it would only be for a few days, but days had turned to weeks, and the weeks had turned into a month. The time that had gone by did nothing to aid Ander’s insecurities. What if Omar didn’t want to stay with him anymore? What if Omar was trying to tell Ander it was over without using his words? Ander had evaded the thoughts for the most part, but he couldn’t pretend that they didn’t have a history of poor communication. 

Ander sat in the silence, pushing out any lingering thoughts as he watched Omar’s chest rise and fall. He carefully studied the slight pout of his lips and the modest arch of his eyebrows—the minor details that no one else got to see except him. Ander fought the urge to run his fingers over them and trace each and every curve of the face belonging to the boy he loved, but he knew it would only rouse Omar from his slumber. Besides, he didn’t need Samuel walking in on them. 

It had become a habit really. After days of struggling to sleep and longing, Ander had decided to start spending more time at Samuel’s in hopes of finding fleeting moments where he could show Omar his affection. To his surprise, he had found plenty. He had lost count of the many times he had gotten lost in Omar in the many places of the cramped apartment. He did remember their favorite place was the couch, for it was the closest surface Ander could find when he would first walk in. The kitchen table was another favorite until it had begun to creak too much under the movement of their collective weight. The bathroom made Ander giddy and nostalgic, for it was one of the first places he had gotten to experience Omar way back when there was no drama that plagued their lives. The two had spent hours in the shower, kissing and making love until the hot water ran cold. They had even conquered Samuel’s room, without his knowledge of course. They had made sure to stuff the sheets in the washing machine before their classmate had gotten home, with Omar explaining to Samu that he had drunkenly spilled beer on his bed as Ander sat back and nodded in agreement. 

But nothing bested the privacy of their own room. Ander hated the idea of calling it his, considering he had spent most of it living with Omar. It simply did not feel right to live on the second floor of his house without his boyfriend wandering it with him. Ander found himself frowning as he sat up, glancing at the bouquet of roses on the desk he had brought Omar. He was then reminded why he had slept over, why he had purposely gone out of his way to prepare for today. 

He pulled out his phone from his pants on the floor. Two in the morning. It was officially Omar’s birthday. 

“¿Que hora es?” A voice called from the bed. 

Ander jumped, turning to find Omar’s eyes opened into slits. 

The corner of Ander’s lips quirked upward. “Too early for you to be awake.” He answered as he laid beside him, his hand going to his boyfriend’s cheek. 

Omar shrugged slightly, leaning into his touch. “I’m admiring the view.” 

Ander grinned. “Of my bald head?” 

“Oye, you could be the ugliest boy in the world and it would still be the greatest view I have ever set my eyes upon simply because it contains you.” 

A burning sensation had begun to fill the chambers of Ander’s heart. Omar did not even say it, but Ander knew that the boy loved him. 

Omar loves him. Every time he reminded himself of that, he saw a glimmer of light in his world that had been nothing but dark for the past year and a half. 

Ander leaned in, letting his forehead rest against his boyfriends. He listened to the sound of Omar’s breathing, slowly leaning forward to press an open kiss against his lips. Omar responded in kind, moving to cover Ander with his body. Ander stopped him, topping him as their kisses grew deeper and longer. His body had begun to heat up as Omar’s hands ran up his forearms and down his chest, the burning intensifying with every action. Suddenly Ander didn’t care if Samu walked in on them—he didn’t even care if the boy woke up to the sound of them going at it. It was simply the consequence of having Omar as his roommate, for wherever Omar was, Ander would be close behind. 

Still, for Omar’s sake, he tried his best to turn his moans into gasps and to soften his movements. He was making love, after all. 

With one final kiss and motion, Ander collapsed back on the bed as Omar covered the messy sheets with the blanket. Almost immediately Ander scooted closer, dropping his head on Omar’s shoulder as the other boy planted kisses in his hair. He waited to catch his breath before preparing what to say next. 

“Omar.” Ander called softly. 

Omar hummed in response. Ander swallowed. 

“Bhebak.” He stated. 

Omar lifted his head to glance down at him. “Que?”

Ander cleared his throat. Perhaps Omar didn’t hear him the first time. “Bhebak. It means “I love you” in Arabic, right?”

He watched Omar’s lips fold into a soft smile. “And where did you learn how to speak Arabic?”

Ander couldn’t fight back his own smile as he pushed Omar playfully. “Maybe I’ve known Arabic this entire time.” 

“Uh huh. Ya Khara.”

“What?” 

Omar grinned, his hand running through Ander’s returning curls. “That’s Arabic. It means “you shit.” 

Ander returned his grin, shaking his head as he kissed the tip of Omar’s nose. “Nadia told me how to pronounce it,” He explained, pausing to plant another kiss on Omar’s cheek. “I wanted to surprise you today.” 

Omar arched an eyebrow. “What’s today?”

Ander stared, glancing at the bouquet of roses. A horrifying thought plagued his mind. Today was Omar’s birthday—he was sure of it. He had marked it on his calendar and set a reminder for every day of this week. It was today, wasn’t it?

Laughter cut through his thoughts and he gazed back at his boyfriend, finding Omar basked in amusement. 

“Gilipollas.” Ander said, realizing Omar was messing with him. 

“You should’ve seen your face!” Omar exclaimed. 

Ander shook his head, burying his face into Omar’s neck once more. “That’s it. I’m breaking up with you. Consider yourself single.” 

“You couldn’t survive without me.” 

And he was right. Ander couldn’t. He was barely functioning as it is without Omar living with him. Guzmán had already lectured him on being a human rag doll whenever Omar was absent from his presence. Hearing it from Omar himself, despite it being a joke, only confirmed that he was helpless without him. 

“Omar.” Ander called softly. 

“Ya?”

Ander hesitated. “I can’t sleep without you.” 

“Well, it is a good thing I’m here, no?” 

“No,” Ander replied, lifting his head. He slid a hand into Omar’s hair, tangling his fingers within it. “I can’t sleep anywhere that is not in our bed. Our bed, that has unwillingly become my bed.” 

He half expected Omar to rehash all of the reasons why he has to stay with Samuel. To his surprise, his boyfriend only smiled again. “Not for much longer. You see, thanks to you, I have been actively searching for a replacement roommate for Samu and have finally found one.” 

Ander blinked as if he had just been told he won the lottery. “You mean—it was that easy to find one?” 

“I never said it was easy. I had to ask literally everyone I work with. But you persistently showing up here looking like a lost puppy that had found its owner gave me the motivation to do so.” 

Ander grinned, sitting up. “You should pack then, no?” He asked, reaching for his shirt. “Come on, I’ll help you. It’ll be quicker if we work together.” 

“Ander,” Omar said, shaking his head. “It’s two in the morning.” 

“So?” 

“So, I want to sleep.” 

Ander nodded. “Then sleep. I’ll pack for you.” 

“Or you can sleep with me.” 

Ander moved to protest until he caught Omar’s serious look. It wasn’t a question Omar gave; it was a statement. For what seemed like the billionth time that night, Ander laid beside him and pulled his boyfriend into his arms. Omar nuzzled his face into Ander’s neck, smiling softly. 

“Thank you for the roses.” He murmured. 

Ander’s skin tingled under Omar’s soft breaths. “Guzmán helped me pick them out. He also helped me pick out the Palestinian restaurant I made reservations for tonight.” 

“Let me guess, he took Nadia there first?” 

“They both said the food was excellent. I wanted to impress you.” 

“Is that why you decided to learn Arabic?” 

Ander smiled slightly, his eyelids growing heavy. “It was good, wasn’t it?” 

He felt Omar grin once more. “Your accent was terrible. I thought you were coughing.” 

“Culo.” 

“Te queiro.”

Ander listened to the sound of Omar’s breaths growing deeper again as he pressed a kiss against his boyfriends’ skin. 

“Bhebak.”

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously can't wait to see these two happy and in love in season 4. If I find the time I want to write a fic of Ander finally meeting Omar's parents before they meet in the show (if they do), but lmk if you want me to. Also I'm Lebanese so I don't know if the dialect is the same, but Bhebak does mean I love you in Arabic where I am from :) I hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
